


ten out of five (i wanna get nasty)

by eatsumus



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Bottom Miya Atsumu, Confessions, Desk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, HQ Thirstmas Day 03: Age-Gap, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Miya Atsumu's Thighs™️, No Beta We Die™, Older Ushijima Wakatoshi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Younger Miya Atsumu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27980433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatsumus/pseuds/eatsumus
Summary: “Miya-san,” Ushijima says, voice never changing tone, still emotionless. “Let’s get to it, okay? I bet you have plans today with your friends or lover.”“Sensei,”Atsumu purrs again, small seductive grin forming on his face. “I don’t have any plans except you.”alternatively: that fic in which Atsumu thirsts for his uni professor, Ushijima Wakatoshi and devised a plan to seduce him.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 306
Collections: HQ Thirstmas 2020





	ten out of five (i wanna get nasty)

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!! here's my day 03: age-gap thirstmas entry!!!! again, thank you to the mods for doing this amazing event!!!! also, atsumu is 23 here and ushi is around 30, just so y'all know.
> 
> enjoy! muax.

Atsumu is known for many things.

Atsumu is known for being the top of the class, the sweetheart of their department, the asshole amongst his friends, and the flirty boy salivating for his professor.

Everyone knows all of those. Except for the last one.

Atsumu would never let anyone know of his massive crush towards his professor. For one, it’s _his_ professor and two he’s much _older_ even though he looks like he’s only on his late twenties. The records say he’s around thirty— and that’s, well, kind of _hot._

Professor Ushijima Wakatoshi of the Science Department with his straightforward and almost boring lectures is the professor many students drool over for. Atsumu is one of them. Perhaps the _first_ one.

No one can really blame him or the _UshiWaka_ fanclub because the man is built like a tank; taller than Atsumu, muscles like steel, looking like he could pick Atsumu up with only one hand. And he’s _smart_ and that makes him much hotter in Atsumu’s eyes. He’s also got this blank face everywhere he goes and whatever situation he’s in, only subtle emotions showing. Atsumu can now pick out whenever Ushijima shows any emotions; like amusement when Atsumu purposely asks a dumb question while he’s lecturing, and when Atsumu pouts at him, complaining about his near _perfect_ grade, Ushijima’s lips quirks into the smallest of smiles and his eyes sparkles in mirth.

Atsumu knows all this because he’s watched the professor the whole semester, prevented himself from sleeping on his lectures, downing gallons of coffee instead. He’s worked _hard_ the whole semester and it shows on his grade. It’s only _right_ for him to ask his professor for guidance, right? Act like he’s struggling so Professor Ushijima doesn’t get suspicious. His plan is _perfect_.

Tooru, however, has called him a _dumb blonde_ when he’s told him about his plan of _seducing_ Professor Ushijima.

Specifically, he’s said, “Why are you so _gung-ho_ about that professor anyways? He’s annoying.”

Atsumu has pouted, sneered at him, “I hate you. Why couldn’t it be me? He asked you to be his TA and you rejected him! You’re so fucking stupid. I hate you.”

Tooru has rolled his eyes, ruffled Atsumu’s hair, “Oh, to be young and dumb. If I accepted you wouldn’t have _any_ chance in seducing that man.” Then he winks and walks— _floats_ —out of Atsumu’s room, mocking laugh trailing from behind him.

“I hate you!” Atsumu has shouted before slumping on his desk, looking at the blank document on his laptop.

_Ugh._

So, yeah. Atsumu might be _young, dumb, and blonde_ but he’s doing this for his future! His future of being fucked by that massive dick hiding under Professor Ushijima’s tight pants. His dreams has been filled with that cock, it’s honestly _unhealthy_. So now, for his sanity and health, he’s going to do something about it.

Not that he hasn’t been doing anything about his crush the whole semester. Atsumu isn’t exactly one to be _subtle_ but he’s subtle enough that no one in his class is suspicious of him, especially the professor’s fans. Them finding out that Atsumu has been going behind their backs and buying Professor Ushijima coffee and snacks and even dinner makes Atsumu shiver in fear.

Yikes.

Atsumu just hopes that Professor Ushijima has taken his actions for _flirting_ and _not_ as a diligent student who wants more points from his professor. But seeing how the professor always nods and gives Atsumu a small approving smile every time Atsumu pops in with a coffee and a melon bread in his hand, Atsumu thinks his _flirting_ has failed.

So with his stupid ass questions memorised and his clueless and innocent face being perfected to a T, Atsumu steels himself as he runs the plan again and again in his mind.

_It’s going to be alright_ , he tells himself as he walks down the Department’s quiet hallway. It’s a day before Christmas and some students and teachers are quick to leave the campus to celebrate the holiday. However, Atsumu has never cared much for it, Japan only celebrating it for the heck of celebrating it and being on trend with the western countries. It’s not an important holiday and so Atsumu isn’t in a hurry to leave the campus, especially when he’s got a one-on-one meeting with Professor Ushijima.

He can do this.

Chanting those words in his mind, Atsumu clutches the bag of pastries on his hand, along with two takeaway cup of steaming hot coffee on the other. He’s going to have a not-study date _date_ with his professor and no one can stop him. He’s going to make it clear to the older man that Atsumu is willing to bend over his desk and let him rearrange his gut with his monster cock.

Yeah. _Yeah_.

Atsumu takes a deep breath, channels all the confidence that he always have and knocks on the door.

“Come in,” A deep voice comes from the inside, just slightly muffled.

Atsumu shivers from hearing it. He takes another deep breath to calm himself and his _dick_ down before he opens the door softly, entering with a smile on his face.

“Good afternoon, _Sensei_ ,” Atsumu greets, closing the door with the back of his foot.

Professor Ushijima is really— _handsome_. He should be fucking illegal. Because he can’t just go around wearing a tight black shirt that stretches over his shoulders, the buttons in the front holding on for dear fucking life. Atsumu, briefly, wanted to be a shirt button because that way he’d be able to caress his muscular chest and maybe lick it too. A stupid thought perhaps but a _horny_ stupid thought nonetheless. It’s a _good_ thought.

“Miya-san,” Ushijima greets, looking up from the paper he’s reading. He adjusts the reading glasses perched on his nose before offering a small barely there smile towards Atsumu. “Take a seat.”

Atsumu beams at him, shuffles forward and takes a seat on the stool in front of the professor’s desk. He then settles the bag of pastries and cups of coffee on top of the table, careful and a little hesitant.

“I brought some snacks with me,” Atsumu smiles, taking a cup of coffee and handing it to the older man. “Since you’re spending your Christmas Eve tutoring me, this is the least I could do.”

Ushijima takes the cup with two hands, fingers brushing Atsumu’s own. Atsumu bites his lip at the soft touch, retracts his hand slowly and pushes it between his thighs lest he do something stupid like grab the professor’s shirt and pull him into a messy kiss. Hmm.

“You know I’ll always help you,” Ushijima says, voice soft, reassuring. He takes a sip of the coffee and hums. “Besides, I’ve got nothing to do today. Just some papers I needed to correct. You’re a welcome distraction.”

Atsumu surprisingly prevents himself from blurting out a _can I distract you with my mouth on your cock then?_ and instead lets out a chuckle, scratching the back of his neck.

“Sensei doesn’t celebrate Christmas?” Atsumu asks, curious. He looks around the office, finding a small christmas tree lit on the corner with a few gifts beside it.

Ushijima follows his gaze and then chuckles, a quiet sound, lips barely quirking up to form into a smile. “No, I don’t. Those are just decorations. Some students insisted of giving me gifts and brought the Christmas tree with them.”

“Oh,” Atsumu breathes out and curses the _UshiWaka Fanclub_ for doing this behind his back. He _knows_ it’s them because they’re the only ones brave enough to approach Ushijima and give him gifts _and_ a christmas tree to go with it. But he can’t really say anything because he, too, is going behind their backs. Not that they know that they have the _same_ goals.

_Ha_.

Ushijima is oblivious enough to not suspect them of anything. Which— _Well_ , is both good and _frustrating_. If the professor isn’t so oblivious then Atsumu would’ve been sprawled on top of his desk already and being fucked seven ways to _christmas_.

In all his twenty three years of life, Atsumu has never worked _so_ hard as much as he’s worked hard in _wooing_ this certain professor. He should get a medal.

But Ushijima’s cock is an enough reward, he thinks. More than enough.

But _first_ —

Ushijima turns to him then, puts the cup of coffee beside his laptop as he gathers the paper on his desk and puts them on the side. He’s so _neat_ it’s almost _erotic_. Atsumu isn’t the neatest person he knows but he’s organised enough that his room doesn’t look like a mess like his life. So seeing someone like Ushijima, big and tall and probably a soft bear Ushijima Wakatoshi, act like this, gentle and soft and _just_ —

Atsumu wants to ask him if he could, also, put Atsumu on his place.

Clearing his throat, Atsumu smiles and puts his elbows on the table, rests his chin on his palms while ignoring the _fake_ reason that he’s come here and instead diving right away into his _true_ intentions.

“So,” Atsumu taps his fingers against his cheeks as he watches the professor slip his laptop and the papers inside the drawer. Now the table is clean, no mess. “ _Sensei_ ,” Atsumu purrs, _whispers_ as seductively as he could, and Ushijima, who’s taking off his glasses and putting it back on the case, hums distractedly. Atsumu huffs. He tries again, “ _Sensei.”_

This time Ushijima turns to him, brows furrowed, lips pursed. He looks at Atsumu curiously, studies his face with those intense green eyes of his.

Atsumu’s breath catches in his throat at being under that scrutinising gaze. It’s a gaze that stirs something deep within him; something that has been simmering since he’s seen the professor for the first time. He gulps, finding himself speechless.

_Fuck_.

“Miya-san,” Ushijima says, voice never changing tone, still emotionless. “Let’s get to it, okay? I bet you have plans today with your friends or lover.”

A frown mars Atsumu’s lips as his brows furrows deeply. He clicks his tongue, _frustrated_.

This oblivious _oaf_.

Atsumu likes him so much.

“ _Sensei_ ,” Atsumu purrs again, small seductive grin forming on his face. “I don’t have any plans except _you_.”

Ushijima blinks, an emotion that Atsumu is very familiar with passing through his eyes before he blinks again and looks at Atsumu indulgently. He folds his hands on the table and Atsumu can’t help but watch his thick forearms with veins bulging on his skin. He wonders how they’d feel around his waist, wrapped around the expanse of it.

“Ah,” Ushijima nods, one corner of his lips quirking into a smile. Atsumu’s heart picks up, hopeful. But then the professor says, “You’re such a diligent student, Miya-san. I wish everyone is like you.”

Ugh. _Fuck_ _this_.

“Sensei,” Atsumu groans then picks the bag of pastry and his cup of coffee, settling them on the chair opposite him that’s unoccupied. He huffs, turns to theman again and leans his body on top of the table, palms flat on top of it while looking at Ushijima straight in the eyes. “How are you so _dense_?”

“Dense?” Ushijima makes an offended face and Atsumu finds him _fucking cute_. Damn.

“ _Yes_ ,” Atsumu hisses before circling the table quickly and with all his strength, fights his way on the professor’s lap, straddling his thick thighs. Atsumu grins to himself when he settles comfortably, proud that he’s won this time.

Albeit it _was_ only a fight in his mind. Ushijima doesn’t stop him, doesn’t act shocked, doesn’t even push Atsumu away. He lets the younger man take a seat on his lap like it’s his personal throne, allows the student to wiggle around until he finds a comfortable position.

Belatedly, Atsumu realises this and looks at the professor with narrowed eyes, confused.

“Comfy?” Ushijima asks and Atsumu looks at him like he’s crazy.

“Uhm,” Atsumu opens his mouth to say _something_ then closes it when he couldn’t find the proper words to say what’s on his mind. His brain is freaking out, mind a jumble of questions.

“Are you ready to study now?” Ushijima sighs before picking up the cup of coffee and without showing any sign of discomfort, sips the liquid leisurely.

Atsumu, honestly, is _stomped_ because _what_?

“U-Uhm, S-Sensei—“ Atsumu stutters, body frozen on top of the older man. Ushijima hums at him, puts the cup back and looks at him curiously. “Aren’t you surprised? Shocked?” The more Atsumu speaks, the more hysterical he sounds. But he couldn’t stop so he continues, voice reaching a higher pitch, “Disgusted? Calling the police? Ohmygod. Tooru is going to have to bail me. Sensei, I’m s—“ Atsumu starts to slip from the older man’s lap, blush high on his cheeks.

Atsumu honestly hasn’t thought of himself _bailing_ out of this plan of his _or_ becoming so nervous that he loses control. Granted, he _is_ used to doing crazy things but they are in _school_ and this is his _professor_ and now he’s lost confidence. His heart is beating so wildly as he scrambles to get off the older man, breath coming in pants.

But then a tight grip on his thighs stops him from moving, making him halt all his movements. He stands in front of Ushijima, legs on each side of his body, hands on his shoulders. Atsumu doesn’t even remember when he put his hands on the older man’s shoulders but now it feels like he’s _burning_ , fingers clutching the dark fabric of his shirt.

“…sensei?” Atsumu whispers, eyes wide. His heart beats so fast; faster than a hummingbird. He swallows, feels his body heat up; feels his dick slowly harden inside his briefs just by being gripped by the other.

“Weren’t you comfortable?” Ushijima asks him, now mirth in his eyes. His lips is formed into a small smirk, almost unnoticeable. But Atsumu has noticed, hyperaware of the other’s presence.

“I—“ Atsumu blinks, digs his nails on Ushijima’s shoulders. “I thought—“

“You know,” Ushijima starts, conversational. Atsumu slowly sinks back down on his lap, feeling awkward. He doesn’t take his gaze off the other, watching him carefully. “I thought it was weird, you buying me snacks and coffee. I thought you only wanted a good grade.”

“But…?” Atsumu asks because there’s always a _but_.

“Oikawa messaged me,” Ushijima smiles and this smile is different from all the smiles that Atsumu has seen from him so far. It’s a teasing smile that makes his face look younger, more open, a little more relaxed. Atsumu looks at him in awe before he processes the words and curses loudly, eliciting a chuckle from Ushijima.

“That fucking _traitor_ ,” Atsumu hisses, embarrassed, _ashamed_.

“I guess he is,” Ushijima says, rubbing soothing circles on the side of Atsumu’s thighs. “But he helped you, didn’t he?”

Atsumu scoffs, curling his lips into a sneer. “As _if_. He just wants to see me suffer. That asshole.”

Ushijima looks at him almost fondly, pulls him closer by his thighs. Atsumu lets out a squeak of surprise, digging his nails on Ushijima’s shoulders. He takes a deep breath, tries to calm his panicking heart and so very _interested_ dick.

“He told me your plan,” Ushijima informs, watching Atsumu squirm on his lap. His grip on Atsumu’s thighs loosen, hands moving towards Atsumu’s waist where he holds him tight and prevents him from _moving_.

Atsumu tries to wiggle more but then freezes when he feels the bulge under his ass.

_Oh._

“M-My plan…”

“Yeah,” Ushijima leans forward, lips so close to Atsumu’s own. “Told me you’ve devised a plan to seduce me during Christmas. I didn’t believe him at first but seeing how you tried so hard to _please_ me, I believe him now.”

“ _Sensei_ ,” Atsumu whimpers, grinds against Ushijima’s clothed cock.

“Be a good boy,” Ushijima says before lifting Atsumu and settling him on top of his neat desk.

Atsumu lets out a gasp, scrambles around for purchase and knocks a box of pen and some other things towards the floor. The pens clutters on the floor but Ushijima doesn’t even react, just spreads Atsumu’s legs wide and settles in between them, pushing his clothed cock against Atsumu’s ass.

His head thunks against the desk as he throws it back in pleasure while a moan escapes past Atsumu’s lips, loud and clear. Upon hearing it, he slaps his hands on his mouth, fearing that someone will hear him.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” Ushijima says as he slips his hands under Atsumu’s sweater, fingers immediately rubbing and pinching Atsumu’s nipples. Atsumu pants agains his palms, breaths coming in quick, muffled huffs. “But you’re _so cute_.”

Atsumu moans when the older man pushes his shirt up to his neck and latches his mouth on his nipple, tongue swirling around the hard bud. He wraps his legs around Ushijima’s waist, pulling the older’s lower body closer and rutting against his clothed cock.

A large hand then grasps his wrists, pulling his hands from his mouth and pushing it up his head, letting his arms dangle on the edge of the table. Atsumu’s moans are louder than ever as Ushijima sucks on his nipple, teeth nibbling the hard flesh before trailing his lips down Atsumu’s chest.

“Sensei, Sensei,” Atsumu chants, watches Ushijima’s large hands hold his hips, fingers digging on his heated skin. Atsumu whimpers, licks his lips at the sight because _fuck_ , he’s dreamt of this for so long. Fuck. “More, _please_. _Ushijima-sensei_.”

“Hmm,” Ushijima hums, untangling Atsumu’s legs around him before pulling his pants, along with his briefs and shoes, off of him, leaving him naked from the waist down. Strong fingers then gathers his supple thighs together, squeezing Atsumu’s warm flesh as he does so. He bends Atsumu’s legs up to his chest and spreads Atsumu’s asscheeks with his other hand, thumbing on Atsumu’s twitching rim. “You’re cute here too,” he comments, hands coming up, rubbing Atsumu’s balls before going back to rubbing his hole.

“Oh,” Atsumu shivers, letting out a groan when he feels Ushijima’s finger on his ass. His legs tremble against his chest and he holds on to them with his hands as he spreads them wide enough that he can see Ushijima in between them.

“You want me to fuck you, Miya?” Ushijima asks, spits on his hole and rubs harder, slipping the tip of his thumb inside.

Atsumu whines, loud and needy. He nods frantically, pushing his ass towards Ushijima’s finger.

“Yes, yes,” Atsumu moans. “I want Sensei’s cock. W-Want it inside. Please.”

Ushijima’s hands leaves Atsumu’s shaking figure and rummages on one of his drawers, a bottle of lube in his hands once he’s in Atsumu’s sight once again.

Atsumu blinks at the bottle, frowns and nibbles on his lower lip. Why would Ushijima have a bottle of lube in his office? Does he fuck his students often? Is Atsumu stupid for thinking he’s special?

“Sensei,” Atsumu breathes out, his own fingers on his thighs tight, painful. “Why do you have that?”

Ushijima uncaps the bottle and pours a liberal amount on his hand, rubbing for a few seconds before gripping Atsumu’s leaking cock.

“Just in case,” Ushijima answers, watching Atsumu’s face.

Atsumu cries out when calloused fingers circle around his throbbing cock, pumping slowly, leisurely.

“B-But,” Atsumu whimpers, lets his legs flop on the end of the desk and pulls Ushijima close to him, making the older hover over his body. “Does Sensei have a lot— a lot who wanna—“

Atsumu can’t even finish his words because Ushijima pumps his cock faster, thumb pressing on his slit, spreading pre-come. It makes Atsumu go wild, body jerking, and trembling as his dreams become reality. It feels _so fucking good_ that all thoughts in his head are forgotten, gone with the wind, replaced by the desire spreading throughout his very being.

“Shh,” Ushijima leans closer, mouths at his lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”

Atsumu presses a kiss on Ushijima’s lips, tongue gliding along the older’s bottom lip. Ushijima smiles at him and Atsumu could only blink back, mouth parted, drool slipping down the corner of his lips. He whimpers when Ushijima lets his cock go and slips down to his balls, rubbing for a while before trailing down to Atsumu’s needy hole. He pours more lube, liquid dripping on the wooden desk, before he slips a finger inside slowly, pumping gently.

“Oh,” Atsumu shudders, feeling the long digit inside him. “Sensei— your finger…” He digs his nails on his trembling thighs, holding tightly so it won’t fall on his sides. But when Ushijima adds another finger and thrusts faster, rubbing Atsumu’s prostate repeatedly, Atsumu’s thighs falls from his hold, dangling from the table. His hands clutches his sweater, gripping tight as his moans turns louder, echoing throughout the room.

Ushijima fucks him with his fingers until there’s three inside, scissoring and widening his tight hole. His free hand grips Atsumu’s thigh, hooks it on his shoulder as he pumps his fingers inside Atsumu in quick shallow thrusts.

“Sensei, please, _please_. Want you,” Atsumu sobs, wraps his arms around Ushijima’s neck, burying his face on the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

“Okay,” Ushijima breathes out, a deep grunt. He pushes his fingers in and out of Atsumu’s hole a couple more times before taking them out completely, leaving Atsumu whimpering. “Shh. I don’t have a condom right now but this will be enough. For now.” He says before pulling back, untangling Atsumu’s arms around him, making Atsumu let out a needy whine.

He unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants and boxers down, taking his cock out. Atsumu leans on his elbows so he can look at the cock he’s been dreaming about for so long and _god_ , it is _big_ and looks like it would ruin Atsumu for everyone else. Atsumu doesn’t have any problem with that.

Atsumu moans then licks his lips upon seeing it.

Ushijima lets out a breathy chuckle, pouring lube on his hand and pumping his cock, making sure his cock is wet enough.

“Ushijima- _sensei,_ holy shit,” Atsumu swallows the saliva that has gathered in his mouth at the sight of the older man’s cock. His own cock twitches against his stomach, drooling more pre-come. “It’s so big…” he whispers, in awe.

“Well,” Ushijima shrugs before he grasps Atsumu’s thighs, leaning down and biting on his supple flesh, teeth leaving marks. Atsumu trembles, groaning loudly. “It’s not going inside you—“

“Sensei!” Atsumu pouts, closes his thighs, trapping Ushijima’s head between it.

Ushijima continues to lick on his thighs, leaving marks. “No condom, no fucking.”

“But _sensei_ ,” Atsumu whines, dragging the last word. He pouts but Ushijima only smiles at him, grabs his thighs and pries it open, big hands squeezing and massaging his warm skin.

“Later,” Ushijima says, pulling back before he gathers Atsumu’s thighs together and slinging them on his shoulder. Atsumu watches with furrowed brows and curious eyes, toes curling and thighs flexing. “Can I fuck your thighs, _Atsumu?_ ”

Hearing his name said like that, deep and seductive, Atsumu nods quickly, doesn’t even care that he won’t have his dream cock inside him. But the older man said _later_ so Atsumu is going to remember that. For now, he relaxes, watches Ushijima pump his own cock a few times before rubbing it in between Atsumu’s thighs. His thighs are wet with lube, dripping of it, and the older man’s cock slips in between easily. The head of the professor’s cock breaches in between and Atsumu can feel how hot it is, how it _throbs_ and twitches against his skin.

_Oh god, oh god_.

“Sensei, _fuck_. D-Does it feel good?” Atsumu squeezes his thighs together tighter, wanting for the older man to feel as good as him.

“Hmm,” Ushijima slides in more until their cocks are touching, wet and hot and _so fucking amazing_. “You feel amazing, darling _._ ”

Atsumu moans when the older man starts thrusting in between his thighs, sliding in so easily and rubbing against his cock. Moans after moans slips out of Atsumu’s lips, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, holding on for dear life as his professor fucks his thighs.

It feels like a dream.

“Your thighs are amazing, baby,” Ushijima says, squeezing Atsumu’s thighs together tighter, harsher. “Feels so _good_.”

“ _R-Really_?” Atsumu gasps, shudders at the compliment.

“ _Yes_ ,” Ushijima moans, fucking Atsumu’s thighs faster. “So. _Fucking_. Good _._ ”

“ _Ah, ah, ah_ ,” Atsumu moans, body twitching at the onslaught of arousal he’s feeling. He brings his hands down to his cock, letting his fingers circle Ushijima’s cock every time he thrusts in. Atsumu pumps his cock fast, the same pace as Ushijima is fucking between his thighs. He strokes his dick a few more times before he comes on his hands and stomach, moaning Ushijima’s name loudly.

Ushijima follows soon after, Atsumu’s legs flexing and tight as he pushes his cock in between his slicked thighs. He releases on Atsumu’s stomach before pulling his cock out quickly and stroking it while it still spurts white come, painting the back of Atsumu’s thighs with his come, white and thick.

Atsumu shivers, body trembling as Ushijima lowers his legs down gently. He lets his legs flop down on the desk, back of his thighs meeting the wooden desk. Briefly, he worries about how he’s staining the professor’s expensive table but Ushijima leans and kisses him deep, shoving his tongue inside Atsumu’s mouth, sucking and swirling, leaving Atsumu breathless.

When Ushijima pulls back, both of them are panting for breath, lips on lips, spit covering their chins. Atsumu bites the bottom of Ushijima’s lip, making the older man moan. Atsumu smirks, fingers buried in the older man’s hair.

“Ushi-sensei,” Atsumu murmurs and Ushijima cocks an eyebrow at the nickname. “That was amazing.”

The professor huffs out a chuckle, taking Atsumu’s thighs in his hands and massaging.

“Yeah, it was,” The older man answers, continuing his actions.

“Uhm,” Atsumu chews on the inside of his cheeks, hesitating for a moment before he takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “I like you, Ushijima-san.”

Ushijima blinks, actions stopping. Atsumu holds his breath, watches as multiple emotions fleets through the older’s eyes. He gulps, readies himself for rejection. Just because they _fucked,_ doesn’t mean that the professor _likes_ him.

Fucking is different than having _feelings_.

“You’re cute,” Ushijima says, pulling Atsumu’s body up easily before sitting on the chair, Atsumu on his lap. He rubs Atsumu’s chin with a thumb, smiling softly. “Let’s talk about this when we get home, okay?”

“Home?” Atsumu blinks at him, confused.

“Yeah,” Ushijima leans in, nips his jaw. “You want me inside you, right?”

_Oh_.

Atsumu whimpers, nods frantically, chants, “Yes, yes, _yes_.”

“Good boy,” Ushijima tells him. “Then let’s take my good boy home, hm?”

“Yes,” Atsumu nods, hugs the professor before he whispers. “I get to spend Christmas with sensei.”

Ushijima laughs, deep, soothing, “I guess you will, sweetheart.”

**Author's Note:**

> it's my first time writing ushiatsu and especially ushijima so im not sure about his character here. sowwyyyy. i'll do better next time! i hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> find me [@eatsumus](http://twitter.com/eatsumus) and scream atsumuharem with me ehehe muax


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